


Struggling and Falling

by Apple_Fairy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Fairy/pseuds/Apple_Fairy
Summary: Kiku discovers what falling in love feels like, for better and for worse.





	Struggling and Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting this from Tumblr. Written with the idea of what Kiku's vision of an ideal romance would be.

When Kiku Honda falls in love, at first, he does not believe it.

He’s never thought of love. Of course he knows what romance and love is, of course he has seen it. But to believe that such a thing would actually happen to him, well. Well, that’s just too young for him.

When reading the love poems of the court women and when hearing the stories in violent yet pleasingly tragic plays it seemed so far off. A complicated concept that existed only on paper or in words, in stories that were intangible yet felt. It seemed so completely fictional, even if he witnessed the love affairs and saw the way his leaders looked at their wives.

But the moment it happens to Kiku it seems like a cruel joke.

He wishes it had been a human. He could suffer alone then; Kiku liked the idea of suffering alone, because the idea of bringing everyone down with him was too improper and selfish to him. Yet, as said before, it was a cruel joke. The moment Arthur Kirkland smiled at him under a blanket of stars, Kiku felt something hit him in his chest. Love hit him when he let his guard down, a merciless and cruel shot.

He dreamt of him that night, and at first he waved it away. But the more he dreamt and the more excited he got with each meeting, Kiku struggled to understand just what was going on.

Did he like the alliance that much? Was he so fascinated with British culture? Why would he react so strongly to the idea of rolling, green hills, of an island bathed in rain, of the scent of black tea tinged with sugar?

Kiku considered dropping it, but he couldn’t. He’s always been an introspective creature of habit that read between the lines. And the more he searched, the more he pondered, the deeper his search got, was when he finally uncovered just what his heart was feeling and suddenly it all fell apart.

Kiku was in love.

Kiku was bewildered at this. Love? Him? Love  _Arthur_? No, no, it couldn’t be right, he surmised. Why, to love another nation, well that was just absurd. That was impolite, that was unprofessional, that went against everything Kiku  _believed_  in.

So he thrust himself into turbulent denial for two years and continued on as such.

And yet, Arthur was just as merciless as the desire.

He was not purposefully so. Kiku had noticed long ago, Arthur did some things that could be so unintentionally cruel. (A result of a reflexive sharp tongue and some walls he had put up long ago around his heart). It had been raining. They stood under a gazebo, surrounded by hydrangeas, their crisp blue surrounding them lovingly. They had been caught in the rain and Kiku busied himself wiping the water on his face and in front of him Arthur struggled out of his soaked coat.

They laughed about it and honestly there was a small part of Kiku that wanted this to last forever.

They talked, as they always do, and the conversation was comfortable and it was friendly. And yet, in the dull of it, Kiku caught Arthur staring at the bobbing hydrangeas in the pouring rain.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. Arthur blinked, his gaze never wavering, and it was the effortless way he spoke next that made Kiku believe he misheard.

“I was just thinking how beautiful you are.”

Kiku blushed. Of course he blushed. He felt his heart clench and felt his world become so wonderfully whole.

Arthur caught himself, and coughed into his sleeve, embarrassed.

“I-I mean your country. The scenery. It’s very beautiful. Sorry.”

Kiku wished he wasn’t. Kiku was suddenly very young then and very selfish and wanted to be spoiled and be told all the stupid, vain things he never took pride in.

Kiku was not a romantic. He never will be; but at that moment he realized he’d been holding back so long, so he wanted to be overcome by romance then and there. He wanted the empty words and the embarrassing, horrible declarations. He wanted it all, just to experience it once.

Kiku did not ask for this. He did not beg; he didn’t even quietly, yet discreetly request it. He instead smiled politely (as always), forgave him (as always), and went into an explanation of the hydrangeas (as he rightly should).

Kiku felt dead that night. He felt simultaneously reborn and horribly dead at the conflicting feelings of getting what he wanted and realizing he should never have it.

By the time the alliance broke, Kiku only sadly told himself  _you deserved this_  and suffered alone just as he had always wanted.

(And of course there was anger and sadness and betrayal and the mixed message of whether he should hate Arthur or be hurt by him. It mixed in with the newly found pride and the self-loathing sadism and Kiku began to forget who he was).

(He falls into a glorious nightmare where he loves himself and learns to hate himself).

When he wakes up again, Kiku is in a hospital bed. He is horribly thirsty and he cannot feel his left leg. When he does feel it, it’s on fire and he begs the doctors to please kill him, please oh God make it stop.

It goes on like this for a few months, with Alfred constantly at his bedside like a child watching a dying animal.

In between the pain and politics, Kiku remembers falling in love. He wonders if reminiscing is him running away from the pain, or if the pain is him running away from the reminiscing. He cannot stop thinking about Arthur, and finally Kiku reaches the conclusion he’s still in love.

He’s disgusted, but to be honest, he’s mostly sad. He’s sad, and he yearns.

One day, Kiku wakes up and isn’t able to remember if it’s day or night. He forgets all that however when he glances up and there is a vase full of roses on the bedside table. They glow in the harsh white of the hospital room.

When he continues to look with his only good eye, he finds Arthur asleep by his bedside.

Kiku knows he’s not dreaming, and he’s so happy he isn’t.

He’s envisioned this moment a thousand times. He’s imagined yelling at him; he lists off all the pain he’s gone through because of him, he spits insults at his face, he takes a route that makes him feel superior and in charge again. He’s also imagined crying into his arms; he tearfully confesses everything, and tells him how much he missed him, and he’s willing to take him back.

Kiku has planned all of this. And yet, now, the words fail him. Instead, Kiku watches him sleep and he remembers so clearly just how comforting even Arthur’s presence is.

The clock ticks on. Kiku watches.

When Arthur stirs awake, he’s all noise and worry. He asks questions, he explains why he’s there. He says he  _missed_ him.

He says he’s  _sorry_.

Kiku considers what to say next. He wonders if he should fight back for his pride, or give in and play the pitiful role.

But then it dawns on him; he’s in  _love_. And love was neither of these things.

“I’m still mad at you.” Kiku confesses. He chokes up, and he’s gone through so much, he doesn’t even bother to hide it. “But I still love you.”

Arthur is quiet. Kiku turns to look at him.

“So what should I do now?”

Arthur blinks. He shrugs.

“We don’t have to do anything now. We can decide later, if you’d like.”

Kiku nods, and the tears roll down his face. He lets Arthur embrace him, and losing himself into that embrace he is gently reminded of why he loves Arthur so much.


End file.
